


impact

by perfect_little_fool



Series: Stydia Fics Inspired by 30 Day OTP Challenge [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief Kissing, Confident Lydia, Cuteness Level x20, F/M, First Date, Fluff, nervous stiles, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_little_fool/pseuds/perfect_little_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is mortified when his first date with <i>the</i> girl doesn't go exactly as planned. Lydia is there to remind him of some things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	impact

**Author's Note:**

> day 4 - on a date

“I could, uhm, I could—do you want me to—“

Lydia places her hand gently on top of Stiles’, giving him a small smile as she gazes up at him. She takes his hand and places it back on the wheel of his Jeep, unbuckling her own seatbelt with a quick click. “I’m fine, Stiles, I just hit my knee on the glove box. Are you okay?” She points her eyes toward his shaking arms and his quivering lip, brushing his shoulder with her perfectly-steady fingers in worry.

He nods, closing his eyes briefly and sucking in a swift breath before releasing it just as fast. “Yeah. Just…ya know, completely and utterly horrified with myself.”

She laughs, reaching out and pushing open her door before glancing back at the nervous boy in the driver’s seat. “Why? Because you blew out a tire on your first date with Lydia Martin? Please, worse things have happened on her first dates.” She gives him a cheeky grin before hopping out of the Jeep.

A blunt laugh is heard from inside the interior of the car before she hears him falling out of the car as well, both of them rounding toward the front left tire, gazing down at the obviously flat circle with mixed facial expressions. There was a hefty silence on the strip of road they broke down on, some empty stretch of gravel that Stiles had used as a short cut to get to the super-secret (not really secret, Derek had showed him where it was, but that’s irrelevant now) area in the Beacon Hills reserve where he’d set up a picnic basket and blanket and candles and—fuck this really blows.

“Good thing you have that donut on the back of your car.” Lydia pats his shoulder as she moves around him to go toward said object. He glances up to watch her as she walks away, his eyes moving down the curve of her body. _Fuck_ why did she choose that beautiful-ass dress to wear?

(Good fucking job, Stiles. You’re first real chance to impress _the girl_ and you screw it all up by running over pieces of that fucking wrecked fence that came out of nowhere. Son of a bitch.)

He scrubs his hands through his hair angrily before following Lydia to the back of his Jeep, allowing her to unzip the black cover around the donut and then reaching out before she could to unhook the makeshift tire. “Always the gentleman,” she teases but smiles all the same, crossing her arms loosely over her chest as she waits for him to bring it down.

Collectively they carry it back toward the top end of his car, setting it down on the ground as Stiles gets to his knees with the wrench in hand as Lydia plops the jack down beside him. “Need any help?” she offers with a smile, brushing at her hands absentmindedly.

He glances up at her expertly done face, her temperamental red hair pulled up into that cute high bun of hers that left wisps framing about her face, and her lovely clean, fair skin that had not one blemish on it. Then he takes one more look at the filthy gravel he was perched on and shakes his head back in Lydia’s direction. “Not a chance. Don’t want you getting messy.” Then he sets to work.

The girl to his right chuckles lowly before leaning back against the Jeep’s rear driver side door. “To be honest, that was a good answer,” she relays, her lips pulling into one of those rare magical Lydia-grins and he stumbles with the wrench before righting it quickly.

Stiles manages to remove all the lug nuts from the tire’s center before he gets back to his feet and nods toward the jack. “Might take two of us to get the Jeep off the ground,” he says as he hooks it underneath the bottom of the boxy vehicle, watching her step forward with absolutely zero hesitation. 

“Say when,” Lydia gives easily, making his stomach clench in on itself and fuck if he didn’t fall for her just a bit more before he’s saying when and they push down manually together to lift the behemoth he calls transportation off the rocky asphalt road. 

As she rounds back toward the now-loose tire she brushes against his back and his entire body freezes, his tense shoulders practically representing a billboard. He watches mutely and unresponsively as the girl of his dreams gets to her own knees—which are bare, by the way—and plucks each nut off the tire’s plate, holding them in her palm delicately. 

(Stiles has always known if he had to compare her to something it would be to a sunflower, whole and wonderful and so filled with what could only be described as light.)

“Wanna come help me take the tire off the car?” she brings him back to reality with her question, gazing up at him with a bemused look on her face. Kneeling, looking breathtaking even while holding filthy lug nuts from his dirty tire in her hand, she was a specimen truly from another planet. 

He nods with shaky breath before ducking down beside her as they each grab an end of the tire.

Stiles realizes as they lift the tire from the car and bring the flat piece of shit to the back of his car where the donut once resided that even doing something us mundane as changing a tire was so simple, so easy to do with Lydia. It was a nice break from the complex and confusing mysteries they were constantly solving, always trying to figure out what new creature was stalking them at the high school or who was paying off assassins to kill each of them. This, rattling around with lug nuts and banging the wrench against the bottom of his car on accident, was like nothing he’d ever felt before with someone. It was uncomplicated, unreserved, and comfortable.

It was like she didn’t give a fuck that their date was ruined, that no sappy, cheesy, over-the-top romantic setting was the location of their date.

Or, at least, it didn’t seem like she cared that they were stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Stiles opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again before once again shutting it tight as he bends down to grab the donut and hoist it up and slot it in to replace the old tire. Lydia wordlessly holds out her hand so he could grab a new nut each time he needed it, her smile once again genuine and pure, his eyes having to look away lest he be blinded. 

It took no time at all for him to tighten each back into place, both of them stepping back to admire their handiwork. “Well, that was fun,” Lydia breaks the silence with a playful sentence, looking up to glance at Stiles’ mostly expressionless face.

He nods, refusing to return her stare and propping back down to grab the jack. “Yeah…yeah it, uh, it was.”

The fidgeting boy tosses the tools in the back of his Jeep before turning to look back at Lydia who was only a few feet away from him. He once again is mesmerized by her effortless appearance and kind, open face, wondering once again how she not only agreed to go out on a date with him but also put up with the fact that he fucked it all up after wrecking a crucial part of their journey there. He, without shame or regret, openly smacks himself in the forehead.

A cute laugh bubbles out of her raspy throat. “What was that?”

“I can _not_ believe I got a fucking flat tire while on a date with you,” he blows out a breath in anger, knowing he sounded huffy but not giving a goddamn damn. “Makes sense though, since I never actually pictured our first outing together to go spectacularly or anything.”

There was a beat of silence where he was afraid he’d lost her, that she would demand he just get back in the car and take her home, before he feels a tentative hand on his shoulder. His eyes find hers in the dark, wondering how they were still so visible in the shadowy night, before she brings her other hand up to his opposite shoulder, giving him her infamous small, emotional smile.

“Stiles, you do realize I agreed to go on a date with you not because I thought it would be a date to go down in a history but because it was _you_ I was going on a date with, right?” Lydia clarifies slowly but surely, her arms sliding their way around his neck before he’d even had time to process it.

His eyes were blown wide, his hands gently moving to cup at her waist, the curves there making his mouth dry out and his heart beat wildly.

(He may be freaking out about truly touching her for the first time but that is neither here nor there.)

“Uh yeah, sure, r-right,” he nods enthusiastically, still not sure how he should react to her sudden affection but wanting to keep it going no matter what.

The redhead snorts, shaking her head as she thumps it gently against his chest. “This is gonna be one hell of a ride, isn’t it?” she questions with a hint of promise in her voice, her eyes wickedly mischievous as she inches up on her toes. He knows she isn’t talking about driving in his car and eats up her bold behavior and curls the rest of his long arms around her waist to huddle her closer, a surprised whimper leaving her pink lips as their faces find position no more than a few inches from each other.

“Yes it is,” he murmurs, still feeling his breath shake from the fact that _holy fuck Lydia Martin’s lips were right there right fucking there and he knew she was giving him permission to do more than just look at her from a very small distance_. “Would it be incredibly dumb of me to say ‘buckle up’?”

A loud laugh leaves her throat, his grin widening as her head throws back. “I expect nothing less but yes it would.” Her head moves back down, red hair tickling his forehead as they connect eyes once again.

“Well fuck it,” he shrugs as best he can while holding her very close to him, their bodies pressed so tightly together now that he could feel the entire length of her lining him. “We better buckle up.” He muffles her second laugh with a kiss, the overwhelming warmth of it shocking her before she’s returning the sentiment, grabbing the nape of his neck to keep him where he was.

As he peppers kisses away from her mouth and up the hook of her jaw, tugging at her waist to make sure she didn’t go anywhere, she glances off to the left down the expanse of road. Where had he been planning on taking her? Would they even make it that far now that they were clearly getting sidetracked on the side of wherever the fuck they were?

(Not she was at all against the side-tracking, of course.)

The moment she feels his hand smoothing down over the curve of her backside, a little grin kicking up the edges of her lips, she realizes she doesn’t care. So what if his original plan was now fucked—they had here and now and that was okay.

Her lips move back to his just as they hear another car swing by them on the road, Stiles hardly even wondering how they had managed to not hit the fence debris even though he had.


End file.
